Trapped Until Death

Stuck in Craig

Arriving at the garage around eleven, Dale says, "I was hoping to have it done by noon, but you want it done right. I need to leave here at three because I'm playing Santa Claus at tonight's college festivity. I think it should only take about another two hours."

Two hours?

I can handle two hours. That's a trip to the museum I've been wanting to see and one last meal in Craig. Larry likes my idea for filling time, and we take off for the museum.

Museum

The Museum of Northwest Colorado sits in the heart of Craig and operates on a donation-only basis. They also have a bookstore with lots of fascinating history books about the area.

But the museum!

While there are references and exhibits featuring some well-known western legends like Butch Cassidy and Kid Curry, other equally-fascinating lesser-known personalities and histories are preserved here.

The thing that draws me here is the story I read about an amazing find that has the potential to rewrite a portion of western history and lore. Here's the story as posted to a Craig community chat on December 6, 2023:

MAJOR Outlaw Discovery!!

In the summer of 2022, a jaw-dropping donation was made to the Museum of Northwest Colorado. In a box full of personal effects belonging to the iconic woman of the West, Josie Bassett, sat a copy of "The Outlaw Trail” by Charles Kelly.

But this was no ordinary copy.

This was Josie’s personal copy containing hundreds of annotations, written in her own hand, pulling from first-hand knowledge about major historical people and events. And boy is she ticked.

Written in 1938 and still in print, Kelly’s book is one of the first and most influential books about Butch Cassidy, the Wild Bunch and other notable outlaws. It includes chapters about Brown’s Park (Josie’s home growing up), Ann Bassett (Josie’s sister) and of course Butch Cassidy (a personal acquaintance of Josie).

In addition to the numerous corrections to Kelly’s accounts, the letters “BS” and “a lie” are repeated heavily throughout the entire book- often multiple times on the same page. Josie accuses Kelly of embellishing and, in many instances, outright fabricating events and characters.

Josie not-so-subtlety writes of Kelly, “God hates a man who never tells the truth and the Devil will shun his company when he gets to Hell,” and “This man should be confined he is a dangerous liar, a criminal. Every word of this chapter is a lie a dirty lie.”

A couple other significant comments Josie makes include stating that her sister, the even more well-known Ann Bassett, was never actually in love with Hi Bernard- the man she confoundedly married after, it is believed, he facilitated Tom Horn’s murder of her fiancé, Mat Rash in 1900. Josie writes, “Ann Bassett knew Hi Bernard was as vile as Tom Horn before she married him.” She also comments about Butch Cassidy’s death. Josie is often attributed with Butch secretly meeting-up with her in the 1920s. After Kelly writes that Butch and Sundance died in Boliva in 1909, Josie writes, “Cassidy was not killed.”

This fascinating artifact is a treasure trove for historians and enthusiasts of the American frontier. It provides a glimpse into the tension between historical reality and the myths that have shaped popular perceptions of the West. The Josie Bassett annotations transform this common book into a highly significant historical artifact. It also calls into question the credibility of "The Outlaw Trail" and invites readers to reconsider the authenticity of later works written with Kelly’s book as a resource.

I ask the lady at the entrance about that book and what the museum has learned.

"Beyond this announcement, there's currently no additional information to release. However, we do have lots of exhibits for you to enjoy, including the world's largest watercolor and a cowboy collection upstairs."

Beyond the foyer area, the large open-air space draws me inward toward the "world's largest watercolor" hanging on the distant wall. I stop at a rock featuring a large dinosaur footprint. I also get stopped by the ancient bison skull, which is sitting beside a more recent bison skull. There's a huge difference.

Eventually, I make it to the back wall and look at the 16-foot by 10-foot watercolor. It's a cowboy on a horse in water. Knowing that it's a watercolor makes it pretty impressive. It's hard to imagine what kind of work had to go into it.

I stop by the exhibit of two deer. Fighting through a fence, they somehow locked antlers. The placard says they were found like that. A local taxidermist did the work, and now they are locked into the history of Craig.

Radiator-Hose Dumpster Dive

Back at the college, Dale tells me I'll be lucky to get out of here by three. "And I've got that Christmas thing to go to," he reminds me. "The trouble is...this hose is the wrong part."

"The wrong part?" I repeat. "Is it available at..."

"I already called O'Reilly's and NAPA. Both have to order the part."

That would take days to get here!

Dale continues, "We threw away the old hose on Wednesday. We're going to have to go dumpster diving to look for it when we get done with these power-steering lines. For some reason they keep leaking. But I have to be out of here at three."

A glimmer of hope!

"I'll dumpster dive," I say.

"Oh, you don't have to..."

"Oh, yes, I do. I need to get out of here today."

Dale picks up a bag that's sitting on the counter. "We use these type of bags. They're thick. It'll be in one of these." The other shop guy tells me what dumpster he remembers putting it in. "Just look for a bunch of car parts," Dale says as I'm walking away.

Hopping back into the minivan, I explain everything to Larry while circling around to the college's dumpster area. When the car stops, I jump from it and rush toward the dumpsters.

I have to get out of here today! Larry leaves from Las Vegas at six a.m. on Monday morning. The clock is ticking.

Fortunately, the college dumpsters are somewhat sanitary. Despite a few mystery stains, there's no weird smells, goop, or liquids to contend with. For the most part, everything is in big brown or grey plastic bags. "It'll be in one of the thicker, grey bags," I tell Larry.

Larry stood outside the dumpster, pulling off the top bags and looking inside. I braced myself between the two dumpsters, using the other to push against so I could climb into the smaller one where the shop guy remembered putting the part.

"This one's got shop stuff," Larry calls.

"Is it..."

"No hoses, though," he says, putting the bag to the side and reaching for another.

Meanwhile, I start lifting bags, making small tears, and determining whether shop or school. Some of the bags are hard to differentiate in the light; these must be opened.

We look through all the bags in the dumpster.

No hose.

"Let's try the other dumpster," I say.

Larry starts pulling off top bags, while I climb out of the first dumpster.

"There's tires in here," Larry announces.

"Shop parts!"

We scramble and look through bags. I pull out a thick, grey plastic bag. It's not heavy, and I can feel big pieces of something inside. It's different from the others, so I tear into it with hope. "Shop parts!" I spy a tube toward the bottom. "I think I've found it!"

At the bottom of the bag are two hoses. My best guess is they are radiator hoses.

"Let's take these back," I announce.

Back at the shop, I can see the relief in Dale's eyes as I hold up the parts.

"We'll be done in an hour!" he says.

Tortillas y Queso

One hour.

What to do? What to do?

Visit Harbor Freight? No. Poke around Walmart? Definitely no.

"Let's go get some tortillas and queso," I suggest. "We've got a long ride ahead of us."

So, we go to the place up on the hill by the school. The orange Mexican restaurant with the good queso. We sit at the bar. I order a seltzer with lime, and Larry gets a coke. We plot out our trip on the map.

Halfway Backed Out

"This is not good!" I announce to Larry as we pull up to the college exactly one hour later. "Why is the RV only halfway out of the garage?"

At this point, I'm imaging all kinds of calamity. The radiator hose burst off the radiator. The new timing chain jammed. The new water pump exploded. The engine locked up.

I park the minivan close to the garage, hop out, and go look for mechanics. I want to leave. Now.

"No worries!" Dale says immediately. "It's just leaking some steering fluid. We're getting that clamped down now to stop the leak. You want it fixed right? Right?"

I do.

Within ten minutes, he backs the RV the rest of the way from the garage. He takes off in it.

"Where's he going?" I ask the student-mechanic.

"He's taking it on a quick drive. We test all the cars before they drive away."

Green Light

Dale returns with the RV, and we discuss final matters.

The engine is solid.

Yes, I'll need to get the exhaust repaired. Maybe in Havasu.

And here's the bill.

With that, I'm out the door.

By 3:30 p.m., I'm heading southbound on Highway 13 out of Craig. Larry's following behind the RV in the minivan.

I'm praying for a straight shot down to Havasu without any hiccups along the way.